Profiler

CHAPTER 7

It was after 11 o’clock when Tai Wei remembered to bring Fang Mu home. In the car, he told Fang Mu that the crime scene technicians had already determined that Ma Kai's fingerprints matched those from the other murders, so even though he hadn't yet confessed, charging him would be a cinch.

Fang Mu didn't say a word. He just stared at the darkness outside the window.

"You take it easy when you get back," said Tai Wei, noticing Fang Mu's exhausted expression. "I'll stop by in a few days."

At the school gate Fang Mu got out of the car and said goodbye to Tai Wei. He had turned to go when Tai Wei called out for him to wait.

Fang Mu looked back.

Tai Wei had stuck his head out of the passenger side window, his shoulder resting on the frame. He stared at Fang Mu for several seconds, and then his face broke into a wide smile.

"Kid," he said, "you're incredible."

Fang Mu laughed, waved goodbye, and then turned and left.

By now it was already close to midnight, and most of the dorms were dark. Streetlights lit the campus roads, so that ahead of Fang Mu the darkness was occasionally broken by pale yellow pools of light, in which could be seen the mad fluttering of unknown insects. Fang Mu walked slowly, silent as a ghost traveling through the night.

Looking up, he saw an endless array of stars glittering in the dark canopy overhead. The air was fresh and he could feel a slight coolness as he breathed it in.

There's a sentimental notion that, when people die, they become stars in the night sky, shining down on friends and enemies alike.

Rest in peace, all of you.

The light in Room 313 was off. Fang Mu took out his key and placed it in the keyhole, only to find that the door had been locked from within.

A burst of startled noise sounded from inside. Then in a faltering voice, someone asked, "Who is it?"

"It's me, Fang Mu."

"Oh," Du Yu audibly sighed with relief. "Wait one second."

A girl's voice grumbled softly that she couldn't find her underwear.

Laughing, Fang Mu leaned against the wall opposite and lit a cigarette.

The hallway was dark as a cave. The only light was from a little 15-watt bulb in the stairwell. The light in the bathroom seemed to have gone out again. Standing in the doorway, everything looked pitch black, like an enormous, wide-open mouth.

Low noises filled the hallway.

People talking softly in their sleep.

People grinding their teeth.

The drip of the bathroom faucet.

Someone walking lightly in slippers on the floor above.

Fang Mu felt his forehead suddenly cover in thin beads of sweat. His lips trembled as he smoked his cigarette.

All of a sudden he was terrified. He glanced back and forth.

On either side of the corridor, the doors were shut tight, silent, and seemingly full of malice.

Unable to help himself, Fang Mu looked down the other end of the corridor.

The doors on either side gradually receded. Fang Mu stared rigidly at the darkness before him. What was hidden inside?

He didn't dare look away. These doors, normally so unremarkable, now seemed to come alive in the dark hallway. Laughing secretly, they watched him, this trembling loner, as he proceeded step by step toward his unknown fate. They all seemed about to fly open at any second and lead him down some alluring path, a path that would lead to his own death.

Suddenly a scorched odor filled his nose.

Fang Mu almost cried out. On either side of the hallway, the doors were now in flames. And in the smoke nearby, the outline of a person was barely visible, flickering in and out of sight.

Stepping backwards, Fang Mu reached into his backpack and groped wildly for the dagger.

By the time he finally gripped its scarred handle, he was nearly overcome with terror.

The figure slowly approached through the smoke.

Suddenly Fang Mu realized who it was.

No. Don't do it.

It was then that the door behind Fang Mu creaked open.

Rubbing his eyes, a tall, well-built young man walked out of his room. He looked at Fang Mu. At once his formerly sleepy-looking eyes opened wide.

"What are you doing out here?"

Fang Mu recognized him. He was Liu Jianjun, a Criminal Law graduate student.

Fang Mu was about to yell, "Get out of here now!" But the words caught in his throat.

The smoke and the flames instantly disappeared. As before, there was only darkness. Nothing could be seen within.

"N-nothing really," Fang Mu answered. He slowly withdrew his hand from his backpack.

Frowning, Liu Jianjun looked at him for a moment. Then he snorted, turned, and strolled over to the bathroom, his feet clapping against the floor.

Once his silhouette disappeared into the darkness of the bathroom, the door to Room 313 slid soundlessly open. Sticking his head out, Du Yu glanced toward the bathroom. Then he turned and whispered something, and a moment later Zhang Yao ran out of the room, her hair a total mess. She shot Fang Mu a vicious glare as she passed.

That's when Du Yu noticed Fang Mu was still standing awkwardly across the hall. He waved for him to come inside.

Once inside, Fang Mu sat on his bed and took a very deep breath, and then he looked up at Du Yu. "I'm sorry."

"You bastard!" muttered Du Yu, clutching his head. "I figured you weren't coming back tonight, so when I heard you knocking I thought it was campus security. Scared me so bad I almost went soft."

Fang Mu gave an exhausted laugh.

"You okay?" asked Du Yu. "You're not looking too good."

"I'm fine," said Fang Mu, shaking his head. "You should get to sleep. I know I interrupted you just now, and for that I really feel sorry."

Embarrassed, Du Yu just nodded in response. Then he climbed into bed, pulled up the covers, and before long was snoring away.

Fang Mu switched off the light and sat for a long time in the darkness. When his breathing was completely calm, he took off his clothes and slid under the covers.

You've returned.

The figures silently surround my bed. Someone standing behind me places a pair of hands on my shoulders.

"Actually, you and I are the same."

There's no need to look back. I already know it's Wu Han, his face distorted beyond all recognition.

No, you and I are not the same!

Four days after his arrest, Ma Kai finally started to talk. But even though he openly admitted to having killed the four women, he insisted that it was done out of necessity, since he was afflicted with the same serious case of anemia that killed his father and older brother. A doctor was then brought in to give Ma Kai a full physical examination. The results showed his blood levels were perfectly normal. Their evidence assembled, the city bureau decided to bring his case to trial as soon as possible.

When Tai Wei called Fang Mu to give him a summary of the recent developments in the case, Fang Mu asked if he could speak alone and in person with Ma Kai prior to the trial. At first Tai Wei was hesitant, but at last he relented.

The conversation was arranged to take place in one of the reception rooms at the lockup where Ma Kai was awaiting trial. Although Tai Wei suggested that he be in the room as well, Fang Mu insisted on being alone with Ma Kai. Unable to dissuade him, Tai Wei had no choice but to agree.

At last, the big day arrived. As Tai Wei led Fang Mu into the reception room, he repeatedly warned him to be extremely careful. "This guy's been placed in solitary confinement. You know why? Because on the night he arrived, he attacked another prisoner, bit his neck and wouldn't let go. Keep that in mind while you're in here."

The reception room was empty except for a table and two chairs, all of them fixed to the floor. There were no windows and only a single iron door. Tai Wei pointed to a red button on the wall beside the door.

"We're going to be right outside. When you're done talking, just press this button and we'll come get you." He paused. "And if anything bad happens, you be sure to press it then as well. Understand?"

Fang Mu nodded.

Tai Wei looked him over. "You didn't bring any kind of weapon, did you?"

Fang Mu hesitated for a moment. Then he reached into his backpack, grabbed his dagger and handed it to Tai Wei.

"What did you bring this thing for?" Taking the dagger, Tai Wei looked at it and frowned. "I'm going to have to confiscate it for now; afterwards I'll give it back." Raising his index finger, he feigned a threatening expression. "Ordinarily, it's illegal to own a blade like this. You follow me?"

Fang Mu laughed but said nothing.

Tai Wei placed the dagger in his pocket. "Have a seat. I'll go get the prisoner."

A few minutes, Fang Mu heard shackles dragging along the floor.

Hobbling, Ma Kai was led into the room by Tai Wei and two guards. He kept his eyes on the floor the whole time. Bruises were visible on his newly shaved head. The guards placed him in the seat opposite Fang Mu. They were about shackle him to the chair when Fang Mu stopped them.

"Take off his shackles," he said.

"Absolutely not," said Tai Wei, his tone firm.

Fang Mu took Tai Wei aside. "He has to be completely relaxed for me to get what I need," he said in a low voice.

According to the available data, despite having lost his mother as a child, Ma Kai was a normal young man until the age of 26. After graduating high school he went straight to college, where the only blemish on his record was a single failed exam. Following his college graduation, he became a business manager at a small company, and although he rarely socialized, he displayed no sign of mental illness. He was even in a serious relationship, which ended for the normal reasons. In other words, if Ma Kai's ordinary, unexceptional life was really proceeding on the proper course until he turned 26, then something must have happened to him afterwards, something that changed him completely and ended the lives of four innocent people.

What Fang Mu wanted to know was also the chief question of the entire case: what happened to Ma Kai's mind in the past two years?

"Not a chance," said Tai Wei. "This guy is extremely dangerous, and I'm responsible for your safety."

"Nothing's going to happen. But on the outside chance something does, I'll just press the button."

Tai Wei gave Fang Mu a long look. Then he signaled to the guards that they could remove the prisoner's shackles. A moment later Tai Wei walked over to Ma Kai and stood directly in front of him.

"Behave yourself!" he snapped fiercely. "You hear me?"

Once Tai Wei and the two guards exited through the iron door, Fang Mu returned to his seat at the table. He opened his notebook and switched on his tape recorder.

"Your name is Ma Kai, yes? Hi, I'm from the behavioral science department at the city bureau." Fang Mu had been about to say he was from the local TV station, but at the last second decided to switch identities.

Ma Kai made no response; just continued to hang his head.

"Are you able to hear me?" asked Fang Mu, raising his voice. At the same time, he made sure his tone remained calm. "Ma Kai, please lift your head."

Very slowly, Ma Kai looked up.

Fang Mu held his breath.

My God, what kind of eyes are these? Under the too-bright incandescent lights overhead, Ma Kai's eyes looked ashen, as if there were no pupils, as if they were just a pair of tombs set in his face. They held not a shred of life.

A graveyard, deathly still and cloaked in mist. Bare branches swaying in the wind. Crumbling structures, vaguely discernible in the distance. In a flash, Fang Mu felt himself transported into a waking dream, one from which he could not escape. Faint sounds filled his ears: the mournful squawk of crows, the peal of the funeral bells.

Fang Mu and Ma Kai faced each other for several seconds. When at last Ma Kai dropped his head once more, Fang Mu let out a deep breath.

"The reason I've come today," said Fang Mu, doing his best to keep his voice calm, "is because I'm very interested in you. If you don't mind, I would like to speak with you about yourself and the things you've done."

Still Ma Kai said nothing. His hands were clasped between his legs and Fang Mu noticed that he was swaying back and forth-slightly, though with a definite rhythm.

He was trying to divert Fang Mu's attention.

An instinctive defense mechanism.

"You've been to college," said Fang Mu, "so perhaps you're aware that my opinion will not affect the verdict of your case." He now spoke very slowly. "But I can sense that inside you there is terrible pain. If you do not want this pain to torment you until the end of your life, if you want those who have misunderstood you to know the truth, then please, trust me. Tell me what happened."

Ma Kai seemed unmoved. But then several seconds later he again raised his head. "Many people believe I'm a homicidal monster, don't they?"

Fang Mu nodded.

Ma Kai smiled wanly and shook his head. "None of you understand. I didn't want to kill anyone."

"What do you mean by that?"

Ma Kai didn't respond. He just stared at the blank wall behind Fang Mu. Again his body began to rock.

Fang Mu thought for a moment. Then he grabbed a pack of cigarettes and offered one to Ma Kai. "Would you like to smoke?"

Ma Kai looked up. He stared at the cigarettes on the table before him. Then he slowly shook his head, a look of scorn flashing through his eyes.

Seemingly indifferent, Fang Mu lit one for himself and took several deep drags. A cloud of smoke soon filled the air between him and Ma Kai. He sensed that Ma Kai's eyes were following the rising smoke. At last they came to rest on the cigarette in Fang Mu's mouth.

Suddenly he blurted out: "Smoking is bad for your health."

Fang Mu immediately seized on this topic: "Oh, well, in that case, how do you feel about your health right now?"

Ma Kai stared at Fang Mu for several seconds. Finally he shook his head. "It's not good."

"In what way is it not good?"

The muscles in Ma Kai's face twitched. Then he looked away and his voice grew soft. "I have severe anemia."

"But the doctor already examined you and said your blood is completely normal."

"What do they know?" said Ma Kai, his voice rising abruptly. At once his body straightened up and he whipped his hands out from between his legs. "I know my own illness the best! My father died from blood sickness, my older brother, too, and as for me, sooner or later all the blood in my body will dry up, and I'll die like a crumbling, old mummy. I know it's true."

"You don't trust the doctor's diagnosis?"

"You're all liars. You all want me to die. You'd never help me. I pay you money, you give me blood! But suddenly they say it's not okay. What kind of logic is that? Why is it not okay? My father was lying on the hospital bed, his face growing paler and paler. I knew his blood was slowly drying up. Then they gave him a transfusion and he could walk, he could eat, he could talk with me. Why won't they give me a transfusion? They want me to die. That's why. I know it."

"So what did you do?"

"I won't die, not like my father and my brother, lying on the hospital bed, withered to nothing. I won't do it," he said heatedly. "I will save myself!"

Fang Mu sat there in a daze, as if he had just received an electric shock. All of a sudden, the words in his ears seemed to grow farther and farther away….

One library card. Eleven trembling students. Chen Xi, her long hair fluttering. A devil's banquet: the twisted bodies of Fourth Brother and Wang Jian, burned black as charcoal.

And him.

A scorched odor filled the air. The person before him blurred. He looked close. A smiling mouth, wriggling slowly open:

Actually, you and I are the same.

Click. The tape recorder abruptly stopped.

With a start, Fang Mu snapped back to reality. Ma Kai's nervous chatter continued to sound in his ears:

"…she was such an ample woman. Her cheeks were so flushed. I followed her all the way back to her building corridor…When I forced my way inside she still thought I was going to rob her…" He chuckled to himself.

"Why always women?" asked Fang Mu as he changed the tape.

"Because their blood is clean and soft and easy to absorb. Male blood is too thick, too coarse."

"Really? How do you know?"

"It's just what I think."

"In that case, why this woman?"

Ma Kai was silent for a moment. He seemed not to have considered this question. After thinking about it for a while, he scratched his head and said, "No reason, really. I was walking along, I saw her, so I followed."

"You never considered whether there might be someone waiting for her at home?"

"If there was, I'd get out of there. It happened once; this woman's husband was already there. Good thing I'm a fast runner!" Ma Kai opened his mouth and laughed aloud.

"Sucking blood," said Fang Mu, staring into Ma Kai's eyes, "does it work?"

At once Ma Kai's expression became serious. "Of course it does. I'm still alive, aren't I? Without it I'd already be dead."

"Then why do you mix the blood with other liquids? Couldn't you drink a lot more of it by itself?"

"Look, I'm not some crazed killer; I just need it to survive. Also," Ma Kai shook his head, "the stuff tastes terrible."

"Well if you want to suck blood, why not just suck it? Why do you need to cut open their stomachs? Wouldn't it just be easier to slit their wrists?"

Ma Kai shook his head, a faint smile on his face. "You don't understand. I like the feeling, all of it rushing out at once. Like a flood. I would do anything to make my blood rush like that."

Ma Kai closed his eyes, his expression that of a man savoring a delicious memory.

What was he imagining? Fang Mu wondered. Was he swimming through a boundless lake of blood, one that was all his, that beckoned him to the endless horizon? Here he could stop to drink his fill whenever he wanted-never needing to wipe his mouth, or worry that it would ever dry up. How wonderful to live forever, even if he was cursed to become a vampire.

"Tell me about the little girl."

"Which one?" asked Ma Kai, sounding puzzled.

"The one you killed." Fang Mu suddenly wanted to vomit.

"Oh, her." Ma Kai leaned back as if it was nothing. "What do you want to know?"

"You already killed the woman, why didn't you suck her blood? Why'd you take the little girl instead?"

"Ah, yes, the little one." Ma Kai smacked his lips. "Oh, she was very pretty. Plump little arms, such delicate skin. She seemed ready to burst if you pinched her. And her neck was so thin. After only the slightest effort she was unconscious."

"Why did you need to kill her? At that point you already had blood ready to drink."

Ma Kai laughed quietly. "Little brother, if I offered you a potato or a cherry, which would you eat?"

Fang Mu's clenched his fists. Potatoes? Cherries? These were two living human beings!" He thought of Tong Hui's big lifeless eyes, still wide open when they found her. Struggling to keep his cool, he forced himself to speak as flatly as possible. "Why did you bring the little girl with you? You could have just killed her and drank her blood right there. Why take that big of a risk?"

"Are you crazy?" Ma Kai frowned at Fang Mu, the look in his eyes like he was sitting across the table from a madman. "How could I let a child see something like that? She was far too young."

Fang Mu's blood, which had only just now settled down, began to boil once more. He looked at Ma Kai in disbelief. The other man stared back at him, a scolding look on his face, as if he were lecturing an ignorant young man.

You need to calm down. He's beginning to trust you. Don't blow it.

"Do I take you to mean that…" Fang Mu forced his voice to remain relaxed, "You still very much respected…those women?"

"Of course." Ma Kai's voice was very serious. "As I said, I killed them purely out of necessity. There was no reason to make them suffer any further." Ma Kai then dropped his head and thought for a few moments. When he looked up, his voice was sincere. "Couldn't my behavior be considered a case of dire necessity? I remember one of my college professors taught us about a legal case in which the British Crown sued two men, Dudley and Stephenson. They were being charged with cannibalism. My situation was the same as theirs; we were each just trying to save ourselves. If you have a chance, do me a favor and talk to the judge. Tell him it was dire necessity."

"Yeah, sure," said Fang Mu, not wanting to continue on the topic. "Now back to the little girl. How did you feel when you drank her blood?"

"Excellent. Pure, clear-headed, full of energy. She was a child, after all." Ma Kai paused for a moment, remembering the sensation. The look on his face was one of great satisfaction. "That night I slept very well, and for many days after, my spirits were high. It's just different when they're young."

"That's why you decided to begin selecting young girls?"

"Correct," said Ma Kai, without a hint of shame. "Their blood is much more ideal."

Fang Mu stared into Ma Kai's eyes. He imagined Xu Jie convulsed with terror, trapped in Ma Kai's apartment. What had this man felt when he strapped her to his bed? Joy? Excitement? Or was it satisfaction?

Noticing the expression on Fang Mu's face, Ma Kai quickly added: "You think I was only considering myself? This way I could last a lot longer." Again he dropped his head. "And I could also hurt fewer people."

"You'll never hurt anyone again!" As soon as the words left his mouth, Fang Mu felt a burst of vengeful delight. There was nothing else he needed to ask. They could send this guy straight to hell. He began organizing his things, his arms shaking. It took a lot of effort to remove the tape from the recorder.

He put on his backpack and glanced over at Ma Kai, and then he walked to the door and pressed the red button.

There was no response.

The whole time Fang Mu was interviewing Ma Kai, Tai Wei was next door in the control room, observing everything on the security camera screen. Next to him stood a prison guard, holding an electric baton. Although he was also staring at the screen, his mind was actually tuning into the on-duty room across the hall where the voices of his coworkers could frequently be heard cheering wildly and swearing in disgust.

It was a World Cup warm-up match: France versus South Korea. The score was tied 2–2. Zidane had been hurt and was sitting out.

Suddenly Tai Wei's cell phone rang. He picked it up.

"Hello, Officer Tai?" said the voice on the end. "It's Little Chen from the Hongyuan substation."

Tai Wei was about to ask which Little Chen when he heard a sudden beep from the phone, indicating another call.

"Officer Tai? It's Xu Liansheng."

Now Tai Wei was even more confused. Who the heck was Xu Liansheng?

"Thank you, thank you," continued Xu Liansheng, his voice choked with sobs. "You saved my daughter, you saved my whole family! Thank you, Officer Tai!"

Now Tai Wei remembered. Xu Liansheng was the father of Xu Jie, the little girl they had rescued.

Over the course of the next 10 minutes, Tai Wei used all his skill to convince Xu Liansheng not to immediately come to the city bureau and give him a silk banner as a reward. And because cell phone reception in the control room was spotty, he had no choice but to go out into the hallway to begrudgingly finish the conversation.

"That guy was too much," muttered Tai Wei as he walked quickly back down the hallway. Passing the on-duty room, he noticed the electric baton-wielding guard standing outside the door with his mouth open and eyes fixed on the TV screen, just as Park Ji-Sung dribbled beautifully past Christophe Dugarry.

Tai Wei just shook his head and walked into the control room. He glanced at the screen. Suddenly he was yelling: "Get in here now! Someone get this door open!"

Fang Mu held his breath and pressed the red button a second time. Again nothing happened.

His forehead immediately broke out in a sweat.

Should he turn around? Behind him was the most dangerous bloodsucking son of a bitch he'd ever faced.

He turned anyway. He mustn't let his distress show; otherwise he'd be at a serious disadvantage.

"The guard is in the bathroom," said Fang Mu, affecting an expression of total casualness as he returned to his seat. He made a show of coolly glancing over at Ma Kai.

What he saw shocked him.

The trust and sincerity that had been in Ma Kai's eyes only a moment before was now gone, replaced by a look of the deepest hatred.

"You'll never hurt anyone again!" was what he’d last said to the convict.

Idiot! He thought. Why did I have to say that?

It was essential to divert his attention.

"The bruises on your head-how'd you get them?" he asked, plucking a cigarette from the pack and placing it in his mouth. He fumbled several times with the lighter before getting it lit.

Ma Kai didn't make a sound. He just continued to stare fixedly at Fang Mu.

Suddenly Fang Mu remembered. Ma Kai's first night in lockup; he had attacked another prisoner. The bruises must come from the guards and other prisoners.

"Did you attack someone?"

Although Ma Kai still said nothing, his breathing grew heavier.

Noticing this change, Fang Mu's nervousness reached its peak. However, he continued to speak.

"What happened? You suck his blood? I thought you said that male blood was too thick, too difficult to absorb." Damn! Why did I just say that?

Ma Kai's mouth twisted into a strange smile.

"I can make do if I have to. Such as with you, for example." A look of hunger flashed through his eyes, like a bat in sight of its prey.

Fang Mu's mind went blank. He laughed dryly. "You really think I didn't bring anything to protect myself?"

"Oh?" Ma Kai had been about to stand up, but now he hesitated. A moment later, however, he was once more at ease. "Impossible. They'd never let you bring a weapon in here."

"You think not?" said Fang Mu, forcing himself to keep a thin smile on his face. The smile was there, but he couldn't keep from trembling.

Suddenly, Ma Kai rose to his feet, rushed in on Fang Mu and reached his emaciated arms toward Fang Mu’ neck.

Already stretched to their limits, Fang Mu's nerves snapped. With a yell, he rolled out of his chair and scrambled to the other side of the table, keeping it between him and Ma Kai.

The two of them began circling the table like they were playing a game of tag. Ma Kai's eyes were wide and bloodshot and he was breathing deeply, as if in anticipation. Froth bubbled from the corners of his mouth. Several times Ma Kai tried to jump onto the table, but Fang Mu always beat him back with a swing of his book bag, the contents inside sent flying all over the room.

He wanted to yell for help, but the words caught in his throat.

Finally, Ma Kai lost his patience and leapt successfully onto the table. In desperation, Fang Mu swung his book bag as hard as he could, but since nearly all his things had already flown out, the hit landed soft as a feather and did nothing. Protecting his face, Ma Kai dove forward. Fang Mu dodged back, slipped on a ballpoint pen that had rolled out, and fell face up on the floor.

Seeing his advantage, Ma Kai leapt on him, hands groping for Fang Mu's neck. Fang Mu blocked the grabbing hands and got his foot under him, then he kicked as hard as he could, launching Ma Kai across the room.

As Ma Kai writhed on the floor, groaning in pain, Fang Mu climbed to his feet and ran to the door. He banged on it in desperation, yelling for help. Seconds later he felt Ma Kai's hands on his shirt from behind, pulling him down.

Their previous struggle had nearly exhausted Fang Mu, and he was increasingly incapable of fighting back. Ma Kai, on the other hand, despite his thin, sickly appearance, had become crazed and tireless in his thirst for blood.

I can't keep this up, thought Fang Mu, watching Ma Kai's gaping mouth draw closer and closer. Instinctively, he turned his head away, but in doing so offered his carotid artery up to his opponent.

Ma Kai's heavy breath sounded in Fang Mu's ear, his saliva dripping onto his open neck. Fang Mu could practically imagine the pain of those sharp teeth tearing into his flesh.

Help me…

With eyes closed, Fang Mu heard the iron door slam open and someone rush inside. At once Ma Kai's grip on his shoulders relaxed, and then his body softly rolled off of him.

He opened his eyes to see Tai Wei's worried face hovering over him. The electric baton was in his hand.

"Are you okay?"

Tai Wei reached out and helped Fang Mu to his feet. Stumbling, Fang Mu quickly grabbed onto the table to steady himself. After taking several ragged breaths, he felt his neck. Suddenly a wave of nausea washed over him, and he bent over and retched.

Several guards had Ma Kai pinned to the floor, and were replacing his shackles and handcuffs.

Fang Mu waited until he was no longer shaking so badly. Then he crouched down and, with difficulty, picked up his belongings scattered on the floor and put them in his bag.

Although Ma Kai's head was pressed against the floor, he watched Fang Mu the whole time, a calm, almost serene expression in his eyes. Not daring to meet his gaze, Fang Mu did his best to look away as he organized the things in his backpack and then haltingly made his way to the door. Tai Wei hurried over to help him, but Fang Mu shoved away his hand.

"Get off me!" he yelled. Then he left the room without looking back.

One hour later, at a small restaurant outside the Jiangbin City University gate, Tai Wei was looking across the table at Fang Mu, who was drinking cup after cup of water, his head down.

"All right, all right," said Tai Wei, passing Fang Mu a cigarette. "You still pissed at me?"

Fang Mu didn't want to take it, but when he saw that it was a super-expensive Zhonghua brand cigarette, he accepted.

Tai Wei hurried to light it for him. "That's the right idea," he said. "Don't be angry with me."

Cigarette hanging from his mouth, Fang Mu mumbled something that sounded like, "I wasn't angry."

"I've already yelled at that guard," retorted Tai Wei in a fierce voice, keeping one eye on Fang Mu's expression as he spoke. "It's a good thing you weren't hurt, otherwise I wouldn't have been so merciful!"

Fang Mu's face seemed to relax a little. Actually, he had been partly responsible for what had happened that afternoon. If he hadn't enraged Ma Kai by saying, "You'll never hurt anyone again!" he could have kept the situation under control. Still, he couldn't help but take it personally that he was nearly killed while Tai Wei was absent from his post.

"You should really eat something, too. My treat," said Tai Wei effusively, mostly because inside he was filled with guilt and fear over what could have happened. He ordered a heap of food and several bottles of beer.

After emptying several glasses of beer, the two of them began talking more freely, as if they had forgotten the terrifying events of earlier that day.

"You know," said Tai Wei, his face flushed, "I really admire you, little brother. If it weren't for you, who knows when we would have cracked this case."

Shaking his head, Fang Mu just smiled and took a sip of beer.

"Still, there's something I don't get," Tai Wei continued.

"Oh," said Fang Mu, "what's that?"

"Well, for one thing, how'd you determine Ma Kai's appearance? Or where he lived and what his family was like?"

Fang Mu placed his glass of beer on the table. "The first time we met, you gave me a bunch of crime scene photographs and reports to look at. Later, we went to one of the scenes together-the one where Yao Xiaoyang and Tong Hui were killed. Taken together, all this information gave me a distinct impression: total chaos. The victims were chosen without rhyme or reason, no forethought was put into any of the crimes, and the scenes themselves weren't straightened up at all. He was even taking the knives used to cut open his victims from their own homes, and then leaving them there afterwards. This led me to believe the culprit was what criminologists call a Disorganized Serial Killer."

"A disorganized serial killer?"

"That's right, as opposed to an Organized Serial Killer. This classification was created by the American F.B.I. in the 1980s. So-called disorganized serial killers usually suffer from serious mental disorders. Additionally, they have often lost much of their intelligence and social awareness-or never had much to begin with-and are either partly or fully disconnected from reality. This results in certain commonly recognizable aspects to their crimes; i.e., they are often impulsive and commit the crimes in areas well-known to the killer. And the scenes themselves are generally messy-carelessly so-and full of evidence. In the case of the bloodsucker, all of these characteristics were obvious."

"Is that so?" Tai Wei was listening intently. "Regardless, it still doesn't seem possible to determine the killer's appearance, family background, and living situation from this information alone."

"Of course it's not. But first let me ask you a question. Have you ever felt a certain way about someone, good or bad, the moment you saw them, and then after meeting them found that your intuition was exactly right?"

After thinking for a moment, Tai Wei nodded. "Yeah, I have."

"Any idea why this happens?"

"Not a clue," said Tai Wei honestly.

Fang Mu smiled. "It's because this person closely reminded you of someone you met in the past, someone who definitely left a deep impression on you. So when you encountered this new individual, you subconsciously replaced his personality with that of the old person, and as a result immediately liked or disliked him. And as we have discovered, there are times when this seemingly improbable kind of intuition is totally correct, which goes a long way to solving the problem."

"What problem?"

"Sometimes, people who look alike are alike."

Tai Wei frowned. "Are you talking about Cesare Lombroso? Born criminals?"

"Yes, very good. In his book, Criminal Man, Cesare Lombroso set forth his theories about so-called born criminals. He also boldly detailed the physical appearances of various kinds of criminals. For example, murderers often have cold, detached eyes, aquiline noses, strong jaw lines, and large ears; while thieves have short hair, narrow foreheads, and thick, closely-spaced eyebrows. Many people have criticized these theories as being unrealistic, but they forget that that Lombroso was a classic empiricist. He made sure that all of his theories were based on concrete evidence. So although a lot of modern empiricists doubt it, I believe his theories about born criminals are entirely scientific. For example, environment, upbringing, culture, and diet all have clear effects on criminality."

"In what way?"

"Let me give you a simple example. You ever hear how husbands and wives look alike?"

"Of course."

"One man, one woman, different in appearance before marriage, increasingly similar afterwards. Why is that? It's because when people live together, their diets become more or less the same-their work and leisure habits, too-and as a result their complexions follow suit. For this reason they will seem to be growing more and more alike."

"Huh." Tai Wei nodded, seemingly lost in thought.

"Now let's look at Ma Kai. I deduced he was very thin for two reasons. The first was that I knew the killer struggled violently with some of his victims. The second was that I sensed an extreme anxiety in his crimes, which I felt was connected to his perceived lack of blood or some other negative physical condition. Think about it: if a person were to live with this kind of anxiety over the long term, his diet would definitely be affected, and he would display signs of malnourishment. In other words, he would look thin and weak. A person like this, who couldn't even attend to his most basic needs, would obviously not be doing squat for his appearance. Among other things, this would lead most notably to him having long, dirty hair. He was also almost certain to live alone, because if he shared a house with relatives or friends their guidance would have calmed him down and prevented his anxiety from devolving into paranoia. His sickness must have only come on in the past few years, otherwise he would have killed sooner, and there have been no crimes like these in the city for some time."

Fang Mu took a sip of water and then lit another cigarette.

"The disorganized serial killer has a few classic characteristics," he said. "These include poor social skills, a tendency toward anxiety, and the inability to hold skilled jobs, among other things. They are also often the youngest son, pay little attention to the news, and live alone, generally near the scenes of their crimes. This is why I felt the killer probably lived nearby. And since Hongyuan District is in the old part of the city, it has very little commercial housing. This is significant. Because the killer would have been unable to hold a high-paying job due to his mental disorder, he also would have been unable to afford an apartment at market price. Therefore, he most likely lived in a house inherited from his parents. This meant that they must have worked for some state-owned company, because back then only state employees received discounted housing."

Fang Mu tapped the ash from his cigarette. "So, to sum things up, the killer was under thirty, emaciated, unkempt, with an apartment near the crime scenes, parents who once worked for a state-owned company, and with a very serious mental disorder."

Tai Wei stared at Fang Mu. He was dumbstruck, and it took him a while to snap out of it.

"My god," he said. "You were right about everything."

Fang Mu smiled faintly. "Not quite. I was initially wrong about the connection between blood and his crimes. I thought his anxiety about blood had something to do with the weather."

"Really?" Tai Wei thought for a moment. "Oh yeah, now I remember. When Tong Hui was taken, you said the killer would probably be wearing thick clothing."

"That's right. Since his first murder was committed just after the end of winter, I had thought he was afraid of his blood freezing, or something along those lines, and was taking various measures to keep warm-like wearing thick clothing, for example. But after seeing where Tong Hui was murdered, I decided he was actually paranoid about his blood being somehow deficient."

Seeing the reverent look on Tai Wei's face, Fang Mu laughed. "Look, I'm not that good. There were still a bunch of things I was unclear about; for example, how he chose his victims, why he cut them open, why he mixed their blood with other liquids, why he carried Tong Hui away from the scene-a ton of stuff."

"Oh…" said Tai Wei, as if he had suddenly realized something. "So that's what you asked Ma Kai during your interview?"

"Exactly."

"You’re so interested and have studied a bunch of cases." Tai Wei gave him a meaningful glance. "Want to be a criminologist in the future?"

Fang Mu was taken aback. "I don't think so," he said after a moment. "Actually, I've never really thought that far ahead."

"So then why are you so interested in this stuff," asked Tai Wei, finally voicing the question that had been puzzling him for so long.

Fang Mu's face fell, and for a while he was silent. At last he spoke: "I don't know."

Tai Wei was a little drunk when they left the restaurant and went to his car. "Little brother," he said, clapping Fang Mu on the shoulder, "you've helped me a hell of a lot. Any reward you want-it's yours!"

Fang Mu smiled and shook his head. "You don't need to do that."

"Yes, I do!" cried Tai Wei gruffly. "You want some kind of material reward? Or should I write a commendatory letter to your school? Oh, right…" Suddenly remembering something, he shook his head. "Oh yeah, perhaps it had better not be me who writes it." He chuckled to himself.

Fang Mu was about to ask him what he was talking about when Tai Wei slapped him heavily on the back and said, "Well if the damn bureau won't reward you, I will! What do you students need these days?" He scratched his head, racking his brain for an answer.

"Don't worry about it," said Fang Mu, waving his hand. "Seriously, I don't need anything." When he saw Tai Wei take out his wallet, his expression dropped. "Tai Wei, would you consider us friends?"

Tai Wei nodded forcefully.

"Well, if that's really the case, don't do this."

Scratching his head, Tai Wei thought for a long moment. Finally, in what seemed an act of great determination, he withdrew his Type-64 pistol from its holster and ejected the clip. Then he removed a single bullet and grasped Fang Mu's hand.

"What are you doing?" asked Fang Mu in surprise.

"For us cops, our gun is our best friend." Tai Wei's face was very serious as he placed the bullet in Fang Mu's palm, and then closed his hand around it. "I can't give you my gun, so this bullet will have to do. Keep it as a souvenir."

Damn, brother, thought Fang Mu, isn't this is a little unlucky?Handing over bullet as if it were no more than a piece of candy and saying, ‘Here, try it!’

Nonetheless, Fang Mu carefully placed the bullet in his pants pocket. Then he waved goodbye to Tai Wei. "I should head back now," he said. "Be careful driving home."

Fang Mu turned to go, but after only a few steps Tai Wei called for him to wait. Fang Mu looked back.

Tai Wei stared at him for several moments, as if examining a specimen. "Fang Mu," he said at last, his voice gravely serious, "have you considered being a policeman in the future?"

"Not once!" Fang Mu said with finality, and then turned and walked away without looking back.

Embarrassed, Tai Wei angrily yanked open the car door, climbed inside, and started the engine. Glancing at the "Policeman's Five Prohibitions"sign hanging from his rear view mirror, Tai Wei prayed that he wouldn't get stopped, and then he pulled out. (Translator’s note: "Policeman's Five Prohibitions": Gambling, Carrying guns while drunk, Carrying guns off duty, Drinking on duty, and, Drunk driving.)

Instead of returning to his dorm, Fang Mu walked to the bus stop just outside the campus gate. Hiding behind the covered bench, he watched Tai Wei's car fade smaller into the distance, then he hopped on Local Bus 315.

When the bus reached Eternal Life Road, Fang Mu got off. After walking up the street for a short way, he reached Prolonging Life Road, the site of JiangbinCity's main market for funeral products. Eternal life, prolonging life-in fact, the windows of every store here were filled with wreathes and papier-mâché burial figures. It was common knowledge that too many things on this earth failed to live up to their names.

Twenty minutes later, Fang Mu boarded the bus heading back to school, a bulging black plastic bag in his hands.

1 o’clock a.m.

The plastic bag kept crinkling in Fang Mu's hands as he tiptoed up to the seventh floor. The sound was terribly annoying. This was an all-girls floor, and should some unlucky lady choose this moment to walk to the bathroom, she'd almost certainly faint from fear.

After carefully opening the window that led to the rooftop, Fang Mu tossed the bag out. Then he climbed through without a sound, grabbed the bag, and walked directly to the northeast corner.

It was a pleasant night, silent but for the faint rustle of the wind, which sounded like a group of people quietly chatting. A pile of sand sat in the northeast corner, countless pieces of ash mixed in. Crouching down, Fang Mu reached into his bag and withdrew several bundles of paper burial money. He undid the bundles, took out his lighter and set them aflame. Soon a small bonfire was softly illuminating the midnight rooftop.

With nearly all its students wandering through sweet dreams or vivid nightmares, the darkened campus was unusually tranquil. But should any humans or ghosts have been passing in the night, none would have noticed the strange memorial taking place on the roof of Dorm 5, Unit B-though it was far from the first.

Fang Mu lit a cigarette and took a drag, and then he placed it on a brick beside him. Lighting a second cigarette, he inhaled deeply and slowly exhaled, the smoke curling upwards in the firelight like a veil. For a moment it fluttered gently, and then it disappeared into the night air.

Wang Jian, Fourth Brother, how have the two of you been?

And you, Chen Xi.

Tears fell from Fang Mu's eyes.

I caught another demon. Are you happy for me? What number was this? Six, I think. He was ruthless, killing women and then sucking their blood. And I did really well: we caught him before he could kill the final girl, and now he'll never kill again. He's going straight to hell.

I'll never be too late again. That nightmare was enough for a lifetime.

And if it really was all just a dream? How wonderful that would be.

Fang Mu whispered softly as he stirred the fire. The flames lit his pale face. His expression was surreal, as if he were in a dream. Large tears rolled down his face. He didn't wipe them away, allowing them to fall to the rooftop.

A burst of wind whirled the paper ash. Some of it stuck lightly to Fang Mu's face. When he tried to brush it away, his hand was streaked with black. He knew his face couldn't look much better.

He laughed softly.

Was that you, Chen Xi?

All right, I won't cry.

Fang Mu stood and tossed more burial money on the fire. He turned to look at the cigarette. It was almost out.

He lit Wang Jian another one. Then one more for himself.

The fire slowly burned down, until the only thing left was a pile of ash. Fang Mu covered the ashes with sand, and then took another bundle of burial money from his bag and set it aflame.

And with that, his corner of the darkened rooftop was illuminated once more. By now Fang Mu's eyes had long since dried, his mouth was pinched at the corners and his brows were knit. His expression was inscrutable.

Sun Mei, I've come to see you.

Even though he was never particularly fond of Sun Mei, he couldn't deny that she had saved him twice. Her fate had been horrible beyond imagining.

No matter one's luck, life always comes to an end, like the ash from the fire. Whirling through the air, only to be broken to pieces and forgotten.

Love will be there in the next world, too. Just remember to be happy.

Fang Mu held the final bundle of money for a long time. It wasn't until the fire had almost died that he tossed it in.

I hope you too can find some happiness there, Wu Han.

When he returned to his dorm room, Fang Mu felt unspeakably exhausted. However, his mind was at peace.

He felt this way every time he memorialized the dead, as if the burden he carried was somehow lightened.

Fang Mu slumped carelessly onto his desk chair. Moonlight shined through the open window. Softly, gently, it blanketed Fang Mu, seeming almost tangible. A light wind brushed his face, the air cool and refreshing. It felt wonderful, as if it were passing right through him, leaving him translucent and pure. He rested his head against the windowpane. His eyelids grew heavier and heavier…

Several minutes later, Fang Mu woke with a start.

Du Yu was talking in his sleep. "Actually, B Cafeteria's spare ribs are the best!"

Rubbing his temples, Fang Mu leaned over and switched on his computer.

The machine buzzed to life. Half a minute later, he opened a folder on his hard drive titled "Ma Kai".

Fang Mu's face was tinted blue in the light of the screen, his eyes once more cold, weary, and incomparably sharp.